


angel bites

by gayriot



Series: my shitty band au [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Boyfriends, Cigarettes, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Angst, Love Bites, M/M, Oneshot probably, Piercings, Sloppy Makeouts, Teenage Rebellion, Tumblr, Wow, band au, cliche teen angst, i obviously cant write anything else besides johndave, if u listen close u can hear me rapping that dj jazzy jeff and fresh prince song, now get ready for this name its pretty fuckin unexpected and original, succ, the band is called home stuck, theyre in a real bad band called
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6217114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayriot/pseuds/gayriot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You like Marilyn Monroe, bands no one has ever heard of, Snoop Dogg, vaping and the entire Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie franchise. You couldn't be aesthetic if you tried (and try you do), you have a SoundCloud that you post your beats on (they're terrible) and you don't know long division. </p><p>Face it, you're hilariously disgusting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	angel bites

**Author's Note:**

> no offense toi anyone in the summary; i actually happen to love marilyn, unknown bands, i ahve my own soundcloud, and i dont know long division that well. im also not very aesthetic no matter how hard i try to be. im basically making fun of myself.
> 
> (also, peep that mcr ref. i havent listened to them in 3 years, i dislike most of their songs now, and ive burned all my mcr shirts, but i just couldnt let that one go.)
> 
> also, dave has a hipster af tumblr bedroom thats a mix of these 2 pics[1](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/12/76/24/127624fb000ec20d872e7f88434b7d97.jpg) [2](http://picture-cdn.wheretoget.it/5x34dc-l-330.jpg) except without the banner thing above the bed in 1 and the blanket in 1 being replaced by the plaid one in 2 bc its prolly more his speed
> 
> (btw: fag=cigarette)

"So," you start, right before you take a drag of a cigarette, "you think we should keep Spider Bitch in the band?"

John takes the stick out of your hand with two fingers, places it in his mouth, and speaks around it, "I dont know. I feel like she's giving me bedroom eyes all the time. Especially that time I had to help her when she broke her hand."

You chuckle. "Her eyes say bedroom, but her hands say hospital."

"You seem to quote a lot of Tumblr posts when you get high."

"Yeah, but they sound better when I say 'em, right babe?"

He rolls his eyes and blows a puff of smoke in your direction. Smirking, you swat your hands at the cloud and try to hold in a cough. The cloud dissipates quickly, and you watch it go, thinking about how you could turn that into a song. Somehow. You'll probably forget this idea later on, but it's a good one right now. The fag kicks off a buzz in you and you feel euphoric, but you know it won't last. You take a few more drags and hand it to John who takes just one and then finishes it off in your ashtray. He's had more than you have, anyway. You wish he hadn't picked up your habits, but you can't control a sixteen-year-old boy. 

He starts running his fingers through your hair, gently rubbing your head. You roll over and rest your head on his chest to get closer. You listen to his heartbeat intently as he removes your shades from your face. The Ratboys song playing in the background gets louder and tunes out the sound of your brother's dubstep downstairs, and you close your eyes. John sighs above you quietly.

His [hoodie](http://ih1.redbubble.net/image.137298443.1342/raf,750x1000,075,t,101010:01c5ca27c6.u2.jpg) smells like muffins and AXE-it sorta makes you want to gag, it also sorta makes you feel strangely aroused-and you take in a deep breath so you don't forget it. The hand in your hair makes you feel like falling asleep, but the poster on your wall reminds you to "STAY AWAKE."

"John," you say, but it comes out as more of a whisper.

He hums in response. You look up, shaking his hand off your head, and connect your lips to his. 

"Oh, okay. Sweet."

"Stop talking, dumbass."

Lifting his glasses away, you cup his cheek with one hand and rest the other on his arm. You raise up the sleeve and run your fingers up and down his skin. He nips at your bottom lip and you open your mouth on impulse, allowing his tongue to slide in. The angel bites on his tongue push up against the roof of your mouth. You think about the day he got them and how his Dad practically murdered him (and you). You grip the sleeve of his hoodie tight.

The song that's playing tells you to cry your feelings off the shelf, and you'd consider it if you didn't have a hot boy connected to your face and didn't feel so absolutely content in his arms. That was the cheesiest shit you've ever thought, sure, but every sickass teen boy needs a feelings jam every now and then. 

John sucks on your lip and you decide that you're fed up with being so submissive to his actions. Tangling both hands in his hair, you push yourself up completely on top of him and trace an A on his tongue with the tip of yours (it's a useful technique for you, though you'll never admit to anyone that you had to go on Yahoo Answers to find it out.) Anyways, no one has ever figured out yet what you're actually doing, so it's a pretty solid idea.

He whimpers (yep, that's really helping your baby of a boner right now) and places both hands on your ass. No, you don't yelp a little when he does it what. (You totally do.)

You mouth slides down to his jaw, dragging your lips across the skin. You finally notice that a new song is playing; the singer compares her love to a lampshade as you press a kiss to his jawline. His hands slide into your back pockets and stay there, firmly grabbing you. His breath smells like something you can't pinpoint, something familiar and pleasant, and it's hot in your ear. He leaves his lips above your ear, catching the tip of your ear with his bottom lip. You twirl a strand of his hair around your finger. 

"Come up," he says. You lift your head up to face him. His eyes flick upwards and you move up to put your neck right near his mouth. His lips immediately attach to the spot directly in front of them. He swirls a circle on the skin with his tongue and sucks hard on the spot, lightly nipping at it. A minute of work, him palming at your ass and the zipper of your jeans and you tugging on his hair results in a dark bruise where his mouth was. He thumbs at it softly and you see him smile.

Quickly, you take out your nostril and septum piercings (it would be hell if they got tangled up now) and bury your face in his hair. You try to toss them on to your nightstand without moving too much, but you're 99% they land somewhere else where they most likely won't be found. Oh well, you can always get new ones.

Suddenly, his hips buck up and you hiss at the friction between your pants. Well damn.

"Wanna give me a hand 'ere Egbert?" you say shakily.

John's hand unzips your jeans and without warning slips inside them. He rubs your dick through the fabric of your boxers. You gasp and burrow deeper into his dark and unkempt mane of hair. Your underwear is straining painfully against you, and you involuntarily grind down into his hand. His fingers wrap around your shaft and slowly move up and down, painfully slowly. The sound of your breathing is mixed in with an FKA Twigs song now. You notice that this is the song that John usually gets most worked up during and you whisper the lyrics in his ear. He shudders underneath you, the hand on your dick tightening around it. 

You rut against him, begging him to move faster. You tug on his hair and revel in the noises he makes.

A long moan escapes his mouth before the words do, "Keep singing."

The lyrics tumble out of your mouth in an almost unintelligible manner. Your tongue trips over your own words as you start to ramble while you sing, but John doesn't seem to mind, because his hand definitely speeds up. His thumb wipes away any precum that's leaked out already. You hump his hand like some embarrassingly virginal thirteen-year-old about to get lucky for the first in some dingy closet, but at this point you don't care much. His wrist flicks a fraction of an inch when it reaches your head, and you groan softly every time he does this. Your jeans are becoming much too tight for your own personal liking, but you don't make any attempts to fix them.

The thing about John is that when he gets in the mood, every little thing he does reminds you of a pornstar. You're pretty sure he's just naturally like that when it comes to actions that are PG-13.

Whatever the reason is, you're so fucking glad he's like this.

He lifts your shirt up and balls up the fabric in his hand, holding it near your mouth for you to bite on. He kisses your chest, returning that hand to your back pocket and slowing down the movements of the one on your dick. John squeezes your ass, nipping at your chest with his teeth. He rubs his piercing against the skin, making you shudder. Thank God he got that on his tongue. 

Warmth pools in your stomach, when suddenly his hand releases you. But, after some fumbling around, it returns and presses your dick up against his. He pumps them both together. A long moan emits from your throat and you reach down with both hands to wrap around his. You release, without warning, within a matter of seconds, and he follows close behind.

You let your body go limp on top of him.

"...I love you," you whisper, and it seems like you're talking to yourself more than to him.

"I think...I've thought of a new song idea," he says breathlessly.

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone wants this to be a continuing fic (it would most likely include some of their HORRIBLE* band lyrics) please, let me know.
> 
> *theyd be horrible because id have to write them.
> 
> also ratboys is such a good band
> 
> i didnt really reread this after i wrote it, save for checking out any words i saw that had the little red squiggly thing underneath them to see if they were actually typos 
> 
> the fka twigs songs that i had playing while writing that thing at the end were Hours and Two Weeks
> 
> (here's a pic i found onn tumblr that ive decided is dave and his new lil neck [accessories](https://40.media.tumblr.com/731cd8dfc60beab536a7a5548306a9ef/tumblr_nz2n95jFwR1u5dqy0o1_500.jpg))


End file.
